


The Idea of You

by Lilian_Silver



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst and Fluff and Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Harry Potter Epilogue What Epilogue | EWE, Hogwarts Professors, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 13:07:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18993256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilian_Silver/pseuds/Lilian_Silver
Summary: Hogwarts Professors. Draco is obsessed with Hermione, not that she's aware of that or anything.





	The Idea of You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Slyther_Claw](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slyther_Claw/gifts).



> This started as a little drabble on tumblr, but due to popular demand (mostly by Slyther_Claw) here it is, complete!
> 
> Also, this fic goes from dirty to fluffy to filthy. You've been warned :)

“Fuck, Granger,” Draco growled, pounding into the witch bent over before him.

He was possessive. Unrelenting. Brutal.

Draco knew that she did not enjoy being used in this way, but he did not pay her to have feelings. She shifted uncomfortably and he dug his fingers deeper into her flesh. A warning.

She sucked in a sharp breath and muttered his given name in a groan. He bent over her, bringing his mouth to her ear.

“Call me Malfoy, how many times do I have to remind you?”

“Sorry, Malfoy.”

He continued thrusting into her, and wandlessly cast another lubrication charm, which caused her to give a sigh of apparent relief.

“Mmm yes, Malfoy… just like that… oh Malfoy-”

“Stop,” he said, pulling out of her and stepping back abruptly. “This isn’t working.”

She spun around to glare at him, her transfigured bushy brown hair glinting blonde for a moment as either fear or agitation coursed through her. He really was not sure which, and he really did not care.

He cast a quick scourgify and tucked himself back into his trousers, shaking his head in disappointment.

“So that’s it?” she asked. 

He glanced over and saw that she was still bent forward over the desk in the empty transfiguration classroom, her arse bared to him. As he buttoned his shirt, he replied without looking at her. “I will still pay you, for your service as well as your silence, but we are done here.”

By the time he looked at her again, she had righted herself and retrieved her wand to change her hair back to blonde, and remove the Gryffindor hues from her robes.

“Did I do something-”

“No. It’s fine. You’re just… it’s just not enough anymore.”

He quickly gathered his things and made to leave the classroom.

“Draco!” Daphne Greengrass called back to him. He turned around, a look of sullen indifference on his face.

“You should tell her.”

He sneered. “Tell her what, exactly?”

Daphne smirked. “Never mind.”

Draco scoffed, unwilling to rise to her bait. He left the classroom, slamming the door behind him and shutting off any inquiry about what the witch could have meant.  
.  
.  
Draco was not sure what his next course of action should be. He knew that Daphne would maintain her silence. They were, after all, colleagues, and despite the way he had been treating her as a means to an end, they did have a mutual trust and respect for one another.

There were times when he felt as though the pure blood witch felt sorry for him, but he never let himself think on it too much. He’d been promised to her younger sister Astoria when they were all quite young. Astoria, however, had had other plans. 

Their engagement had ended before it had even begun. When Draco had taken up the post of Arithmancy Professor at Hogwarts, his would-be sister in law had offered her friendship. Daphne was the Muggle Studies Professor, a topic she had apparently held a secret interest in for most of her life.

The post-war environment had provided her the opportunity to indulge in learning all she could. Draco was grateful for her presence at the school, as he did not have many friends in post-war wizarding society, even though he had pulled far away from his family and taken on a humble living as a professor. Well, humble as possible, given the fact that his Malfoy trust sat snuggly in his Gringott’s vault should he ever need it. Still, he did not flaunt his wealth.

He’d kept to himself, allowing his mother to do the work of donating to charities and rehabilitating their family name, while his Father rotted in prison. He wanted nothing to do with either of them, and his life had become rather lonely. He his job well, and people seemed willing to at least treat him with indifference.

Hermione Granger, the Transfiguration Professor, had been no exception. Well, except for those few exceptions…

 

*One year earlier*

 

“Come here often?”

He was having a smoke just outside the doors of the Great Hall during the Yule Ball and she had stepped out and joined him, a fellow chaperone for the occasion. Her lavender gown was exquisite, and it glimmered incredibly in the moonlight. Especially along the sweetheart neckline.

He stared at her without speaking before realizing how it must look and quickly schooled his features into something like pleasant surprise.

She paid his expression no mind, however, and reached for the fag between his fingers. As she brought it to her mouth she said, “do you mind?”

“Please, go right ahead. I didn’t know you smoked.”

She took a drag and stifled a laugh. “I don’t… but I did once for a few months, off and on.”

This surprised him and he wrinkled his brow at her.

“When Harry and I were on the run and Ron had gone off without us, I was… stressed. And starved. I’d taken a few packs from my father before I’d left and had them hidden in my bag. They helped keep me awake and my appetite at bay while I was up at night on watch.”

He was barely listening to the details of her speech. He’d found himself mesmerized by her lips as she took another drag. She held it up in a contemplative manner and said, “I charmed it to have no scent,” before handing it back.

He took it from her and a shiver ran down his arm from the place where their fingers had brushed. She blew out the remainder of the smoke she was holding and her lips turned into a smile.

“What are you staring at?”

He looked away quickly, clearly caught in the act.

“Nothing, just… the moonlight,” he said, gesturing up to the full moon above. “It makes people’s features look different. You… look different.”

She stared at him with a mischievous look that, for a moment, made him feel as though she might lean in and kiss him.

Instead, she smirked and said, “Different than the bushy haired thirteen-year-old you used to refer to as being repulsive?”

Even though her tone was entirely playful, he leaned in with a pained expression and said, “hey listen, I know a lot of time has passed, but I’ve never actually apologized for my behavior-”

She held up a hand and let out a small laugh. “It’s fine, Malfoy. Really. All in the past.” Then she leaned in and kissed his cheek in a way that was slightly less than chaste and whispered directly into his ear, “thanks for sharing.”

He stood frozen in that spot for a good five minutes after she’d left, unsure if her hot breath on his ear, her lips on his cheek, or the way she’d placed her hand on his shoulder, lightly grazing his collar bone with her thumb as she’d spoken those final words had affected him more.

Then there was that damned time in the staff room.

 

*Six Months Earlier*

 

He’d just been sitting there, enjoying an unusual free afternoon (Hogwarts teachers worked much harder than he had ever imagined) and she had come bursting in.

“Malfoy, I need you!”

The words rang in his ears and he was almost too shocked to respond.

He’d had a fantasy that had begun exactly like this that he’d been playing in his mind most nights prior to this incident. That it was happening in real life was almost too much to fathom, though he was sure it wouldn’t end the same way as his version.

She spun around after yelling and quickly spotted him seated in his favorite armchair, a cup of tea frozen in mid-air almost to his mouth.

“There’s a situation,” she said, her cheeks flushed and sweat covering her brow. She’d clearly run there.

He put his teacup down and looked up at her, waiting for her to say more. When she did not, he said, “Do you need me to…?”

“Yes, come! Now! Please!”

Now there was yet another line from the fantasy. He shook it off as he rose from his seat.

He followed her to the transfiguration classroom and found a group of students huddled in a group.

“Try finite incantatem again!” one of the students yelled over the others’ shoulders.

“If it didn’t work for Professor Granger, why would it work for any of us, you twit?”

“Out of order, Damian!” another boy shouted.

“Step aside! Coming through!” came Granger’s voice as she stepped through the horde. Sitting in the middle, his face in sheer anguish, was a young boy with a gnarled black hand wrapped around his own.

She turned back to look at him with a slightly apologetic expression. “It’s a hand of glory that he snuck in to school and it’s attacked him.”

He shook his head as he moved toward the boy. “Probably because it doesn’t belong in your family line, where’d you get it?”

The boy looked up at him with a scowl. “I’m not telling you, Death Eater!” and with that, he spat at Draco’s feet. Many of the on-looking children gasped or cried out in shock, but Granger was first to respond. She shoved Malfoy to the side and advanced on the boy menacingly.

“How dare you. A week’s detention and fifty points from Ravenclaw,” she said severely. The four other Ravenclaws in the group cried out in protest at this.

“Quiet! Or I shall make it two-hundred and fifty.”

They fell silent immediately. She turned to Draco and said a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head almost imperceptibly and mumbled, “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” she said, and took his hand for the briefest second, before seeming to remember they had an audience.

Without another word, he strode forward and drew his wand. “Tenaci mortis liberare,” he said, and the hand instantly released its grip on the boy. Not expecting a thank you of any kind, he turned on his heel and walked to the door, a tense silence still palpable in the classroom.

“Best donate that to the Department of Mysteries for research,” he said over his shoulder as he exited.

He was halfway down the corridor when she came after him.

“Malfoy!”

He stopped walking, but did not turn around right away, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for whatever obligatory speech she was about to give.

Turning around, he saw that she was out of breath again.

“I’m sorry.”

“I told you it’s fine, Granger.”

“And I told you it’s not!” she said in the same tone with which she threatened five times the points.

He smirked at her. “Are you going to dock me points, then?”

“Malfoy I’m serious,” she said in a pleading tone.

“So am I. The way you just channeled McGonnagal was uncanny,” he said, ignoring her sincerity completely.

“Ugh!” she cried. “You are impossible!”

Reaching up a hand, he grazed her cheek and said, “Now that’s more like it, Granger.”

Then, realizing what he’d done far too late, he pulled his hand away.

“Got to go, papers to grade.”

He turned and walked away without once looking back.

.

.

His feelings for the witch confounded him. No matter what he did, he simply could not get her out of his head.

Receiving her pity in any way would surely get him in trouble, and that was all it had been. Pity. Because in no universe would Hermione Granger actually find him to be a good person.

Still, he’d needed some way to get the excess energy out of him, and so he’d gone to Daphne with somewhat of an indecent proposal. Having been shunned by her entire family, the witch needed the money, and he’d had it to spare.

Like he said to her, however, the sex was no longer enough, and he truly was not sure what would be. Full on polyjuice would be crossing a line. Perhaps he needed to date.

He was just coming to this conclusion one evening after he’d had his last romp with transfigured-hair-Daphne when there was a knock at his office door.

Before he could give permission, the door swung open to reveal none other than…

“Pansy. To what do I owe the honor?”

“Well hello, lovah!”

“Will you ever cease calling me that? It’s been years for one thing, and for another, you no longer prefer the company of men.”

“Oh I still do on occasion,” she said, closing the door behind her and crossing the room to sit in one of the armchairs across from his desk. “I’m always keeping my options open. I’m just a bit set on the one witch at the moment.”

“Did Daphne tell you I ended the arrangement, then?”

“She did, and I have to say, Draco, I was disappointed. I’d been enjoying the lavish dinners she would take me out to, not to mention the expensive-champagne induced lovemaking afterwards.”

Draco stilled for a moment, the image floating into his mind and then out without peaking much interest.

“So you’re here, why?” he asked. He really had a great deal of papers to grade.

Pansy looked affronted and gave a dramatic scoff at his words.

“Can’t I just stop by to see my ex-boyfriend who occasionally shags my current girlfriend for money?”

“Indeed you can, but you always have an ulterior motive. It should be included in your personal tagline.”

“Pansy Parkinson,” she said, holding up her hands as if displaying the name in the air, “ulterior motives you can count on.”

“Exactly. So, out with it.”

Without missing a beat, she slapped her hands on her knees and said, “Well, I wanted to see what your plan was for dealing with your little problem.”

“My problem?”

“Yes, you know… your little Granger problem.”

Draco looked down at the paper in front of him and pretended to be reviewing it.

“I see no need to do anything about it at present,” he mumbled.

“Oh come off it, Draco, you are a man obsessed! Something must be done!”

He did not move from his hunched over position, but allowed his eyes to snap up and glare at her. She looked so self-assured. If there was ever a statue erected of Pansy Parkinson, the look she had on her face in that moment would be the one selected by the sculptor.

He could carry on pretending it wasn’t a real issue, but Pansy would endure it until he cracked. Instead, he figured he would crack on his own terms…

“I was thinking I might start dating.”

“Oooh!” Pansy squealed. “That’s a wonderful idea! Where will you take her?”

Draco looked up, puzzled. “Her?”

“Yes, Hermione. Will you take her somewhere in Hogsmeade? Perhaps a quick floo from there into muggle London? Oh, I’m sure she would adore that! Daphne has explored all the best places; we could get you a VIP reservation. Or, oh! What about dancing? Oh, please take her dancing!”

“Pansy. I didn’t mean date her.”

Pansy gaped at him. “What in the bloody hell are you talking about?”

He put down his quill and clasped his hands together, regarding her in much the same way he would a student who was questioning a grade they had received. 

“I meant, date. Like date other witches. See who else is out there. Finally give up on trying to sate this weird craving and simply move on.”

“But that’s absurd, Draco! You’ve just spent months shagging a bushy-haired Daphne as a means of keeping the desire at bay, do you really think some other witch is going to do it for you? Heaven forbid she have smooth, silky hair!”

He sat back in his chair and carded a hand through his hair, releasing a long sigh. “I have to try something.”

She sat back as well and crossed her arms, staring off into the distance for a moment. Finally, she turned her head back to face him.

“Why don’t you just tell Granger?”

“Tell her what exactly? That I’ve been pretending to shag her for months because of some sick obsession that’s plagued me since boyhood? Oh yeah, she’d love to know I’m that bloody creepy.”

“Yea, I mean, it is rather creepy,” Pansy said out of the side of her mouth.

Draco threw his hands in the air in exasperation and Pansy reached hers out consolingly.

“No, don’t take it like that, Draco. I’m not intending to shame you or your preferences, it’s just…”

“Just what?”

“It’s just that it’s one thing to fantasize about someone you could never have, but this whole thing is just so weird to me! You could have her in an instant, so I don’t see why you keep mucking about pretending that’s not the case!”

“I am not mucking about and I could not have her in an instant!”

“Oh please, I’ve seen the way she looks at you. She has fancied you since third year. I always considered her a threat.”

“Alright now you’re the creep. Was that all you paid attention to back then?”

“More or less. Honestly, I had my own little crush on her to contend with. Much easier to make fun of her hair than to admit I wanted to rake my fingers through it.”

“Now there’s an image.”

Pansy leaned on her knee, palm on her chin. “It is, isn’t it?” she said wistfully.

“Hey,” he said, snapping his fingers. “Enough of that. It’s great to see you, Pans, but I do have an awful lot of work to do, so if that’s all…”

“Oh no,” she said, standing and leaning forward onto his desk. “I’m not leaving here until you agree to ask her on a date.”

“Well then, make yourself at home. I can conjure you up a cot, but be sure to cast a warming charm, it gets drafty in here at night.”

“Draco!” she said, stomping her foot in classic Pansy fashion. “This is ridiculous! If you won’t ask her, then I will!”

“You will do no such thing,” he said, and then his face turned into a grimace. “Wait, do you mean ask her out on my behalf or your own?”

Pansy’s face lit up with a gleeful smirk. “Well, I hadn’t even thought of that. Do you think Granger swings that way? Perhaps she’d be interested in being a third with Daphne and I. Suppose it wouldn’t hurt to ask.”

“Pansy!” he shouted.

She looked coyly up at him, a wry grin spreading across her face. “Yes?”

“Fine, I will ask her to have tea at the next Hogsmeade weekend. Happy?”

“Extremely,” she said, with a satisfied smirk. “I mean, it’s a start. I will need confirmation of a real date shortly thereafter.”

“Fine.”

She stood and turned to the floo. “Pleasure doing business with you, Draco. I will send you the bill for my services.”

He raised an eyebrow at her.

“What? You’ve fired my girlfriend and we need the galleons. Consider me your relationship consultant.” She grabbed a handful of floo powder and said over her shoulder, “and I’m very expensive,” before winking and disappearing into the hearth.

.

.

The task of asking her out weighed heavily on his mind for the next hour as he attempted to finish his work. Eventually, he gave it up as a bad job and left his office, deciding to get the thing over with right away.

Her office and quarters weren’t too far from his own and when he arrived there, he saw that the door was ajar. Knocking quietly, he pushed it open.

He shouldn’t have been surprised by the number of books lining not only her office walls, but also the floor in stacks. Her desktop was covered as well, and he wondered how she could even get anything done in such clutter. Somehow, he’d imagined she would have been much tidier than this.

A fire was dying in the hearth, and he heard movement behind the door leading to her private quarters. Perhaps she’d gone to bed but had forgotten to lock her office door? If nothing else, he should let her know she’d done so.

He crossed to the interior door and knocked, confident she was still awake, judging by the noises he’d heard.

“Come in,” he heard her say in a voice that sent shivers down his spine. He turned the door handle apprehensively and stepped inside. The site that met his eyes nearly knocked him off his feet. 

Hermione Granger, wearing some sort of delicious black lace corset with thigh-high stockings, was sprawled out over her bed. She was leaning back on her elbows, watching him as he took her in. He realized that she didn’t look surprised to see him. Instead, her eyes were filled with desire. She looked almost feral.

“Hello, Malfoy.”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His heart was pounding and his cock threatened to burst from his trousers, he was so hard. Swallowing hard, he eventually said, “Hello, Granger.”

She smirked at this and raised a finger to beckon him over to the bed. Could this really be happening? Surely he’d walked into some sort of dream. Perhaps it was a charm? Or a curse? Like a boggart except it shows you your fantasy?

He found himself moving towards the bed slowly.

“You’re early,” she said. “But no matter. You can strip and I’ll get myself good and ready for you.” She moved back on the bed to lean against the headboard, spreading her legs and bringing her hand down to rub her clit through her black lacy thong. “Go on, then.”

As if in a trance, he reached up to loosen and remove his tie, which he did in a few quick movements. Then he unclasped his robes and draped them over a nearby chair before beginning to unbutton his shirt and step out of his shoes simultaneously.

She kept intense eye contact with him as she continued to pleasure herself. “Eager this evening, are we?”

His mind spun. Had there been other evenings? He had certainly never been there before. His brain was not working at full capacity.

As he reached the last button and pulled his shirt off, it dawned on him that Granger had been doing the same thing he had been. Only, he had never used polyjuice. Transfiguration, yes, but not full on polyjuice.

He probably should have been horrified, but he was intensely turned on instead. The idea that Granger had been fantasizing to the point of asking someone to impersonate him was… unfathomable. And yet, here it was. Happening.

“Trousers too, come on,” she said, just as she slid the black material aside and pushed a finger inside. He could see how wet she was from where he stood, and made quick work of his trousers, kicking them aside. He climbed onto the bed and over to her, placing kisses along her stockinged legs. Just as his mouth was approaching her center, she grabbed his chin and brought his face up to meet hers.

“What did I say? Selfish, Cormac. Unrelenting. Brutal. I don’t want the romance tonight.”

Cormac? A wave of nausea ran through him at the thought that she’d asked a tosser like McLaggen to impersonate him. He winced, and it was not missed by her.

“What is it?”

“I can’t. I can’t do it,” Draco said, sadly.

“What do you mean? You’ve been doing it twice a week for months, why should tonight be any different?”

Just then, there was a knock at the door. Granger looked up anxiously, then hopped off the bed and hurried over to peer through the peephole.

Draco watched as her whole body tensed and she gasped, then spun around to glare at him.

“Malfoy?”

“Yea it’s me! Well it’s him, hah,” a muffled voice came through from the other side of the door.

Draco was dumbstruck. He could do nothing but stare.

Her mind seemed to be moving very quickly. Finally, she turned back to the door.

“I’m so sorry, I’m actually not feeling well. I think I’ll need to pass for tonight.”

“Oh come on, darling, what am I supposed to do? Go wandering around as this bloody tosser for an hour?”

Draco was across the room in seconds, gently moving Granger out of the way and wrenching the door open. As he met his (Cormac’s) eyes, his anger peaked.

“No need for that, mate, I’ll save you the trouble,” he said, and then punched Cormac square in the jaw. He fell to the floor with a shocked expression on his face, unconscious. Draco summoned his wand from the floor next to his trousers and it floated to his hand obediently. He used it to lock the exterior office door as well as to body bind his double on the floor before shutting and locking the interior door and rounding on Granger.

“Malfoy what… what are you doing here?!”

He took a step back and scoffed, annoyed that she seemed to be accusing him of something when she was the one fucking a polyjuiced version of him two nights a week.

“I came by to see you and your door was left open, so I came back here to let you know you’d forgotten to lock it.”

“You came to see me?”

“Yea, and then I walk in and you’re all,” he sputtered, motioning towards the bed. “And you’re wearing… and I…” he said, now staring at her scantily clad body and remembering his throbbing erection, only slightly faded at this point.

“Why did you come to see me?”

He looked up at her face and saw that she was wearing a small smile. He put a hand over his eyes and then pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Does that really matter? Should we not be talking about the fact that you’ve been fucking Cormac bloody McLaggen as a double of me for months?”

Her cheeks reddened instantly and she looked around the room as she tried to put her hand in non-existent robes pockets and then settled on crossing her arms instead. She seemed suddenly aware that she was almost naked and had just pleasured herself in front of the real Draco Malfoy. Then something dawned on her and she snapped her eyes back to meet his.

“You went along with it!”

“What?”

“You didn’t say anything. You didn’t think it was odd that I was apparently waiting here for you even though you haven’t spoken to me in six months?”

He’d been keeping track of how long, and apparently so had she. A silence fell between them as they both realized they’d been counting the days.

“I… wasn’t really thinking much,” he said, swallowing hard and letting his eyes fall back over her body.

“Then why’d you say you couldn’t…”

He looked into her eyes for a long moment before speaking again.

“Because if I’m going to fuck you, Granger, you’re going to know it’s me.”

He was extremely aware of the quickening rising and falling of her chest as her eyes wandered down to his bare chest and back up to his eyes.

“Besides, I’ve been having Daphne Greengrass with transfigured curly brown hair for months. Eventually you need the real thing.”

“You… what?!” she said.

He smirked. “It seems that great minds think alike, Granger.”

Her eyes flashed with anger for a moment before settling into something like disdain.

“So is that why you were coming here? To see if you could get the real thing?”

Her false bravado was adorable, he thought, but her quavering voice gave her away.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, moving closer to her. “I came here to ask you on a proper date. You know, that whole romance bit you’re so uninterested in.” He ran his fingers through her hair, brushing some behind her ear, and enjoying the way she took in a shaky breath as her eyes fluttered closed. He rested his hand on her cheek, brushing his thumb along her soft skin.

“It had to stop being romantic, I couldn’t…” she said, eyes still closed. She brought her hand up to place on top of his. “I couldn’t let myself fall in love with you when it wasn’t even you.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on his part, and he reached forward to hold her other hand in his.

“Exactly why I canceled my arrangement with Daphne.”

Her eyes flew open. “You…what?”

“You keep saying that,” he said, grinning and moving closer still so that their lips were only centimeters apart.

“You keep saying surprising things.”

“Mmm, well… I don’t think anything tonight has been as surprising as the sight that met my eyes when I came through your door.”

“I didn’t know it was you!”

He feigned a look of confusion and then said, “No I meant your office door, books literally everywhere, I had no idea what a slob you were.”

She gasped, affronted by the comment and raised her hand to slap his arm, but he caught it before she’d made contact, grinning and leaning forward to press his forehead to hers as they both laughed.

“We can play rough another time, Granger,” he said, leaning in to capture her lips in a kiss that felt to them both like a first taste of water after being lost in the desert. They both moaned into it, but he broke away too soon and said, “tonight we make love.” He kissed her again, and felt a flutter of joy in his chest when she whimpered loudly and repeatedly at each swipe of his tongue or nibble of her lip. “Well… maybe a little rough,” he said, and heard her giggle before he devoured her mouth again.

He’d imagined this countless times, but nothing was like the real thing.

Reaching down, he picked up her lithe body and she wrapped her legs around him as he walked her back towards the bed. Laying her down gently, he placed soft kisses all along her neckline and collar bone. She wove her fingers through his hair, and pulled tight when he stuck his tongue under the cup of her bustier to lick her nipple slowly, torturously.

“Get this stupid thing off of me, please,” she said.

He didn’t need asking twice. Summoning his wand again, he cast a vanishing spell and she lay there, entirely nude. He took in her gorgeous body. Her breasts were perfect handfuls with taut pink nipples. Her hips had a lovely curve to them, which he ran his hand down appreciatively, and then dragged his fingers across to her center where she’d left a landing strip of hair. He let his fingertips tease over her clit without putting almost any pressure on her, enjoying the whimpers she continued to let out. Then, he gasped as his boxers disappeared and he looked up to see Granger holding his wand and smirking at him.

“You forgot something,” she said, sticking her tongue out. He growled and bent down to kiss her again, this time while rubbing circles around her clit. Sliding his fingers down between her folds, he brought her wetness up to her clit and she moaned into his mouth at the silky sensation. Just as he pushed two fingers inside of her, he felt her reach down and grasp his cock. She was pumping up and down on his shaft, and their arms seemed to be getting tangled. Finally, she released him and shoved him onto his back, forcing him to pull his fingers out of her.

“Hey, what are you-” he began, but was silenced when her mouth encircled his cock completely. He moaned dazedly at first before his eyes shot open and he reached over, pulling on her thighs and encouraging her to sit on his face. She took her mouth off of him and positioned her pussy over his mouth before dipping her head back down and taking him into her mouth again. She gripped him with one hand and brought her lips all the way down to meet her fingers, and then brought her hand all the way up over his tip, spreading her hot saliva over his length, then shoved him back into her mouth.

He was licking and sucking on her pussy like it was his last meal. A truly incredible dessert that seemed too delectable to be allowed on a menu. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he buried his face between her legs, alternating between sticking his tongue inside her and using it to trace circles around her clit.

Meanwhile, she was milking him for all he was worth and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold out. He redoubled his efforts, reaching his hand over to stick a few fingers in her tight little cunt. Experimentally, he let his finger drag across her arsehole and felt her shudder. Her teeth scraped over his shaft for a moment, and he knew he’d distracted her. Pushing it a bit further, he wet that finger with her juices and dragged it back over her arsehole again, this time applying a bit of pressure. Her hips bucked and she moaned, pulling her mouth off his cock. 

“Yes please, Draco,” she said. Again, he could follow directions very well. He showed a finger into her tightest hole and placed his tongue flat against her clit, pulling on her hips gently so she would know it was ok to fuck his face as hard as she wanted.

She kept her hand on his shaft, but the increased sensation was splitting her focus and she had to take a break from sucking on him as she chased her orgasm. Bucking her hips, she rubbed her pussy into his lips and tongue, relishing in the sensation of his finger up her arse. It burned with pleasure. Helping her along, he moaned loudly and the vibrations sent her over the edge. It took her no time at all before her cunt was pulsing with orgasm as she came all over his mouth. He kept lapping at her juices until she pulled away, too sensitive to take any more. when she started licking his cock again, he pulled her off of him and brought her up to lay on her back.

Grabbing his wand, he cast a few cleaning charms on his mouth and right hand and then smirked at her. “Wasn’t sure you’d want to taste yourself.”

She smirked back. “So thoughtful.”

He bent over and kissed her slowly, brushing her wild curls out of her face. She was more relaxed than he’d ever seen her. He could really get used to this version of Hermione Granger. They continued kissing in the same manner for a while, when suddenly she had his cock in her hand again and was lining him up at her entrance. When he didn’t push in immediately, she bucked her hips and whimpered. Breaking their kiss, he looked down into her eyes and slid into her cunt slowly, watching her eyelids flutter closed as he filled her completely. He was surprised that she could take all of him. They seemed to fit together like puzzle pieces.

Placing his hands on her hips and gripping tightly, he pumped in and out of her and moaned loudly.

“You feel bloody amazing, Granger.”

She reached up and pulled him down to kiss her, sweeping her tongue over his lips and then into his mouth and wrestling furiously with his. He continued to fuck her as she kissed him with abandon, raking her fingers through his hair. She must have known he was close and wanted to give him leave to finish, because she broke the kiss and whispered into his ear, “I want you to come inside me, Draco. Please.”

Again, with the instructions. He would not argue. His motions became hurried and a bit erratic as he fucked her hard into the bed. She lifted her legs to rest on his shoulders and he grabbed her by the thighs, kissing the inside of her knee a few times before his own eyes fluttered closed and he came hard. Pounding into her violently on the last few thrusts, he spilled his seed inside her cunt as she screamed in pleasure. When he looked down, he saw that she’d reached down to rub her clit and came along with him. In his reverie, he hadn’t even noticed.

He lay on top of her, kissing her gently, his cock still inside her. When she felt him twitch after a while she grinned at him and said, “already?”

He smirked back at her. “Been waiting a long time for this.”

“Well, sort of. You’ve had the idea of me for some time.”

He scoffed. “Yea, since third year.”

“What?!”

“Yes, well… my ideas were slightly less romantic then, but what can you expect from teenage wizards? Every time you beat me in a class I had this undeniable urge to have you against a classroom wall.”

“That’s barbaric.”

“Oh is that so, Ms. Polyjuice?”

Her cheeks reddened. “Oh, right.”

“Oh, right,” he mocked.

“Still, were you having Daphne against classroom walls? Dressed in Gryffindor robes?”

Now it was his turn to blush.

“Draco Malfoy, you did not!”

He looked down at her with a guilty smirk. “Did, I’m afraid.”

“Ugh! That’s disgusting.”

“Why is that disgusting?!” 

“Because we were so young!”

“Not in 8th year, we were perfectly of age then.”

She stilled, staring at him with a marked intensity.

“I wanted you so badly that year, I had nightmares about it,” she said.

“You mean sex dreams?”

“No! Nightmares! Wherein your Father catches us, or else the entire Weasley family walks in.”

Draco laughed heartily at that and realized simultaneously that he was hard again.

“Is this turning you on!?” she shrieked.

He looked down at his hard cock still inside her.

“No I swear, it wasn’t your story, I’m just ready again!”

“Ugh, you are disgusting,” she said, moving to shove him off of her, but he grabbed her wrists and pinned them down next to her head.

“Oh really, Granger?” he said, pumping out and then back into her. “Is that why you’re so wet for me?”

“That’s not new, it’s just there from before.”

“Oh really?” he said, repeating the movement and eliciting a moan from her.

“Damn you, Malfoy.”

“Why did you want me in 8th year? Tell me about it.”

She exhaled deeply as he began to move again.

“You were just so… different,” she said, running her fingers through his hair for the millionth time that evening. “No longer petulant or boastful. I saw you helping first years find their classes. I watched you.”

“Mmm, I had no idea you were stalking me.”

“I wasn’t stalking you, you just seemed to be everywhere I went.”

“Actually, that was on purpose,” he said with a smirk, as he flipped them so that she was on top. She let out a shriek of surprise along with a, “what?!”

“You heard me, Granger,” he said, slapping her arse, indicating she should ride him. She did.

“I put myself in the way of you regularly. I suppose I wondered if you could ever see me as anything but a death eater.”

That made her stop moving. “Malfoy, I have never seen you as a death eater. You’ve always been, just like me, dragged into the whole thing by circumstance. Playing out a role assigned to you by someone else.”

He looked away from her. “Yes, well… I don’t know about that.”

She reached down and grabbed his chin, bringing his gaze back to hers. “Well I do.” Then she kissed him with more fury than ever before, and he slowly wrapped his arms around her, dragging her chest to his as she rocked forward and back on top of him. Her furious kisses turned into moans of pleasure, as for a third time that night she was getting close to orgasm.

Gyrating on top of him, the friction on her clit from rubbing against his tuft of blonde hair was growing so intense that she could hardly stand it. Her back arched and her legs stiffened, and he began to thrust up into her, fucking her dripping cunt. His seed from earlier was pouring out of her, mixed with her newest arousal, and the effect of it all was dizzying. 

Sensing her exhaustion, he moved her onto her back, putting one of her legs over his shoulder, and straddling her other thigh as he continued to pump into her, grazing his fingers over her clit.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck, Draco, keep going. You’re gonna make me come.”

He increased the intensity of his fingers and stayed at one consistent motion. Her moans increased in pitch and finally he felt her walls pulse around him. At the same time, he felt his own orgasm take him over as they both screamed in ecstasy. Pouring himself into her was one of the greatest things he’d ever experienced. It was nothing like an idea. It was real. She was so real.

They went into her private shower and washed each other, both far too spent to go for round four. When they were dried off and changed (Draco into pajama bottoms he’d transfigured his trousers into) she invited him to stay the night and he gladly took her up on it.

As they lay facing one another, moonlight streaming into her tower bedroom, he traced his fingers up and down the side of her arm. She alternated between staring into his eyes and fighting sleep, as it was quite late.

“You are bloody gorgeous, you know that?” he said.

Through a sleepy smirk, she said, “So are you.”

Just then, they heard a rustling from the other side of her door.

“Hermione?” Cormac’s voice called from her office.

“Oh bollocks! I forgot about him!”

Draco started to get up, but she stopped him. “No you stay, I’ll go. I’m quite good at memory charms, and he’s going to need a big one.”

He watched her walk away, grabbing her wand and squeezing through the door to her office. 

Letting out a contented sigh, he thought he just might send a stack of galleons to Pansy’s vault at Gringotts. Her advice had turned out to be priceless.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I adore your comments!


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